


A Lesson in Humility

by cazflibs



Series: The Ace Chronicles: Slash! [12]
Category: Red Dwarf
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2019-04-28 14:50:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14451594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cazflibs/pseuds/cazflibs
Summary: When retired!RimmerasAce is kidnapped and it’s up to Lister to save HIM for a change, Rimmer takes it with all the grace and humility you’d expect.





	1. Chapter 1

Through the darkness, Rimmer heard a weary moan that he felt pretty sure was his. 

He certainly wasn't feeling too good. His entire projection was humming in aching dischord, each electron grumbling in protest as if he were suffering from the worst hangover of his afterlife.

Peeling open his eyes, he tried to blink away their blurriness before reaching up a hand to rub at them. It stopped dead several inches short of his face. Frowning, Rimmer tugged it up again, only for the shackle around his wrist to stop it once more. Blinking in confusion, he pulled at his left hand only to find that it was similarly restrained.

Hands dropping to his lap, an irritable sigh hissed through his teeth. Ohhh, _great._

Feeling his ‘Ace’ instincts immediately kicking in, Rimmer glanced around quietly to try and ascertain where he was without attracting anyone’s attention. Judging by the basic consoles to his left and the loud bass hum, he was being held hostage in the Engine Room of some unfamiliar ship.

He froze as he clocked the figure sitting in a swivel chair on his right. Twisting himself back and forth absently with his foot, the creature’s face was obscured by the crossword book held aloft in concentration, its right hand twiddling thoughtfully with a pen.

Rimmer’s face hardened. Time to lay down the ground rules here.

“I might as well tell you now,” he asserted, his voice a little wobbly from the dizziness that was yet to dissipate, “I won’t be giving you any information.”

The twiddling of the pen stopped abruptly. A wolf-like face peered over the top of his crossword book to shoot him a confused glance. A Sydian, Rimmer noted with an inward groan. 

Sydians were a breed of GELFs that had a rather bad reputation in the multiverse. Not ‘evil’ as such, but self-serving, back-stabbing, law-dodging weasels who would often lurk in the relatively grey area of petty crime, running contraband trading rings across the galaxy.

Green eyes darted to one side then back again. “O-kay,” the Sydian drawled before shaking his head, bemused, as he returned to his task in hand.

Rimmer’s mouth opened before closing curiously. Clearing his throat, he continued regardless. “So you can do your worst. I won’t be telling you anything.”

The Sydian tutted in irritation as he lowered his book. “Look, I’ve got no interest in anything you’ve got to tell me, alright hologram?” His attention returned to his crossword, frowning in concentration. “Unless you know the answer to fourteen across? _‘A humorously cruel twist of fate’_. Five letters.”

He knew it was somewhat self-important, but Rimmer couldn’t help but press the subject. “Forget your stupid, smegging crossword! Do you have any idea who I wa- I mean, am?” he huffed, feathers ruffled. “What I’m capable of?”

The Sydian kept his attention focused on his book. “Well unless you’re a whizz at crosswords, I really couldn’t care less.”

“Ace Rimmer,” the hologram announced pointedly, arching an eyebrow. “Does that ring a bell now?”

“Bartus Jackwal,” the Sydian echoed, no interest registering in the slightest. “And no. It doesn’t.”

The smugness sank from Rimmer’s face. “Oh. Really?”

Jackwal shrugged, lips pursed. “Sorry.”

Rimmer cursed under his breath. Perhaps after all those years building his fearful reputation against ne’er-do-wells across the multiverse, he should have spent a few weeks doing the rounds in _this_ dimension before retiring. Clearly in reality’s arse end of nowhere, he was still relatively unheard of. In fact, they’d been able to wander through the market stalls of the trading moon that morning without anybody recognising him.

Hang on. ‘They’. He hadn’t been alone.

Struggling onto wobbly legs that were yet to fully wake up, an ugly snarl clouded Rimmer’s face. “Alright, you arrogant low-life,” he challenged. “What have you done with him?”

Jackwal lowered his book, petulant. “Him?”

“Don’t play the idiot with me,” Rimmer snorted. “You’ve already sunk that low in my estimations anyway.” He wrenched at his restraints as his patience began to wear thin. “Where’s the human?”

The Sydian’s brow creased. “Human?” he echoed, puzzled. “What human?” Jackwal scoffed in amusement. “Has your audio relay scrambled already?”

“If you’ve done anything to hurt him, I _swear_ I’ll turn you into a fur coat.”

“And _again_ with the threats,” Jackwal muttered wearily under his breath before addressing him directly once more. “Look, I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about, okay?” He gestured to his crossword. “Now please. I’m a little busy here, yes?”

Cheeks flaring red, a self-conscious tongue swiped across Rimmer’s lips. “Sooo - ” A finger gestured awkwardly as he blinked away a strange wave of dizziness. “ - y-you _haven’t_ taken a human hostage too?” The resulting exasperated look told him everything he needed to know. 

Rimmer glanced away, stomach churning strangely. Of course, he was relieved that Lister was safe - but now he found himself somewhat unnerved as he wondered what on Io these Sydians actually _wanted_ from him if it wasn’t information from his heroic secondment. 

He swallowed nervously. Threats against Ace and his allies, he could handle. But without the armour of his alter ego, he was now left feeling worryingly vulnerable.

“Besides, what good would a human have been?” Jackwal illustrated with a curl of the lip before sniggering as a thought came to him. “What was it gonna do? Run in some oversized hamster wheel to generate the power we needed?”

Rimmer’s face fell. “Power?” he echoed unsteadily. 

Realisation pressed down hard and cold on his chest as his gaze dropped to the restraints that shackled him. The lights across their fascia pulsed back eagerly, as if buzzing their excitement into the thick armoured cables that anchored him to what appeared to be a heavy metal transformer set into the deck. Nearby, the console readouts beeped patiently, the screen reeling with feedback on the energy levels that were currently being siphoned from...oh smeg.

Jackwal tapped his pen thoughtfully against the page. “See, I was thinking _‘LOSER’_ but it doesn’t fit with twelve down.” At Rimmer’s horrified silence, he glanced up in expectation, a wicked grin stretching across wolverine features. “Any ideas?”

“Are you - ?” Panic began to claw its way up Rimmer’s throat as he realised why his projection felt so strangely fatigued. “Are you _draining_ me?!”

“Oh, look mate, don’t give me the guilt trip,” Jackwal whined. “It’s nothing personal. We were on the lookout for a free power source and you just drew the short straw, that’s all.” Clocking how Rimmer simply stared back at him, aghast, he rolled his eyes, sighing loudly as he allowed the book to sink to his lap as if loathed to elaborate. 

“We needed a power supply so our ship could make the pre-arranged rendezvous for the goods pick-up, yes? But we didn’t have the readies and there was no time to swindle the fuel.” He shrugged, nonchalant. “Could we help it if a handy battery happened to stroll right past us in the alley?”

Rimmer’s blinked unsteadily. Yes, he was slowly beginning to remember now; could picture the shifty eyes that had watched him intently from the shadows. That uneasy feeling which had instinctively swirled in his gut as they’d begun to follow him.

Finally catching his meaning, Rimmer’s features retreated into a scowl. This was a nerve that was dangerous to pluck. “I am NOT some smegging free-for-all ‘battery’!”

Leaning forward in his chair, Jackwal granted him a teasing tug of the eyebrows. “Can’t deny what your little lightbee is capable of though, can you, eh?”

Rimmer’s jaw tightened as he gave an indicative tug on his restraints. “Give me just 30 seconds out of these and I’ll show you exactly what it’s capable of,” he ground out past gritted teeth.

“Ooh,” Jackwal mocked as he sank back, quivering his pen in feigned fright before dropping the act and returning to his crossword, unfazed. “Tough talk from the power bank!”

“Ohh-ho-ho, RIGHT, m’laddo - ” With no reputation of Ace’s to tarnish, Arnold was free to lose his temper in a _major_ fashion. Fury radiated hot past the rapidly dissolving cool exterior as Rimmer shook his head, fixing the distracted Sydian with a glare that could have easily turned it to stone. “ - I’m going to show you _precisely_ where you can shove your - !”

The moment that Rimmer wrenched hard at his restraints, the lights that encircled them pulsed quicker as they registered the furious power surge before gorging on it greedily. His projection buzzed and crackled frantically in response as he felt the energy draining from his body before flickering back to normal transmission. 

Gasping for air he didn’t need, Rimmer staggered back as the room began to spin, his body trembling uncontrollably with the same quivers of an intense sugar crash. Tottering legs soon gave way, leaving him to sink dizzily to the deck.

The Sydian didn’t look minutely flustered by Rimmer’s threats, or indeed the aftermath of the power drain. In fact, he hadn’t even deigned to look up from his puzzle book. Instead, he waved the whole display aside with a lazy hand. 

“Yes, yes, very impressive,” Jackwal sighed in a monotone that suggested anything but. “Now pipe down and conserve your energy.” At the lack of reply, he glanced curiously past his book before treating the dazed hologram to a snide snort. “We’ll be needing every last kilowatt we can get from you if we’re gonna make it back to Sydias 12.”

Slumped in an inelegant heap, Rimmer gave a woozy groan of frustration as the room continued on its mad merry-go-ride. He’d usually be capable of finishing off a band of Sydian rogue traders without breaking a sweat. But with his power pack draining fast, he was now struggling to even establish which direction he was facing. 

A small insistent voice screamed at him to gain his bearings and try and work out an escape plan...

...and yet sleep felt like such a good idea right now.

A triumphant smack of the pen against the book was the final thing he heard. “ _IRONY!_ ” Jackwal brayed happily, jotting down the answer in the boxes. “That’s the bugger!”

 

Time began to elude him as he slipped in and out of consciousness.

With the power continuing to drain from his system, Rimmer was struggling to wake up. The moment he’d manage to prise his eyes open, they’d seem to flutter closed again, only allowing him snatches of awareness...

...the rhythmic tapping of Jackwal’s pencil…inane chatter about tea bags...an unfamiliar Sydian snoring gently in the chair… and then a strange, distant disturbance that cut through the murk.

By the time Rimmer managed to convince treacherous eyelids to heave open, he realised that the chair was now empty. The Sydian was gone.

Well. That was until it was propelled back into the room by some unseen force, flailing backwards through the doorway before crashing to the floor.

Rimmer blinked heavily. He must be turning completely delirious. Plus he could have sworn he’d heard a familiar voice calling his name, muffled like it was trapped behind glass. Then…

...and then a pair of boots striding towards him in slow motion before stopping beside him. Rimmer forced weary eyes to track up that all-too-familiar body until they reached the summit, where they were greeted by a beaming face.

That face was terribly important. He had to protect it at all costs.

“If you wanted some time to yourself, y'smegger, there were better ways of goin’ about it, y’know,” came the teasing smirk.

Bloody gerbil-faced git.

Rimmer moaned weakly as he tried unsuccessfully to push himself upright. A firm pat against his shoulder swiftly eased him back down again.

“Take it easy, man. Let’s just disconnect you from this thing first, eh?”

With monumental effort, Rimmer flopped onto his back to watch helplessly as the Scouser swung his bazookoid over his shoulder with cool confidence and begun to tap at the console keyboard. Immediately the restraints powered down in a disappointed hum - along with the background bass of the ship’s engines - before clattering uselessly to the deck. 

The ceiling lights flickered sporadically before sinking into darkness, the System Failure alarm wailing its loss as the red glow of the emergency lighting pulsed into action in its wake.

“I can - I’ll - ” Rimmer fumbled, his vocals now drawling in a low slur. “I’ll get us out of -- I’ll - .”

 _“Sure,”_ Lister humoured through a strained grunt as he hauled the hologram to his feet, wrapping the man’s arm across his shoulder for support. “Whatever you say, guy.”

The pair hobbled hurriedly down the corridor before stopping at the door that had now locked down to trap them. Face set firm as he spotted the keypad mounted beside it, Lister gently lowered the hologram to the deck until he was free to sink back against the wall.

“Sit tight, yeah?” he reassured. “I’ve just gotta get this open.”

Lister frowned in concentration as he began to hack the security code, leaving Rimmer to slump his head back woozily. Heavy-lidded eyes slid back along the corridor before freezing in horror as they clocked the scowling Sydian that was fast approaching behind them.

Projection flickering and corrupting, Rimmer whimpered urgently, desperately willing his mouth to work. “Lis - !” he forced out, trembling hands trying to push himself upright. 

Choking out his surprise as a strong arm pinned him across the throat and wrenched him back from the keypad, Lister quickly latched onto it to brace his balance before stamping a boot down hard on his attacker’s foot. 

Feeling the Sydian’s grasp slacken with a pained wail, Lister grit his teeth before snapping his head back as hard as he could. Hearing the satisfying ‘crack’ of his captor’s nose, he thrust an elbow hard into his stomach then wheeled round to deliver a sharp kick to the crotch.

Watching the Sydian crumple to the deck with a shudder of relief, Rimmer felt his image flutter unsteadily at the sound of the door swishing open.

“Come on!” Lister panted as he reached down to haul him upright once more. “We’ve got to - !” He tailed off, face dropping in dreaded realisation as his hand ghosted uselessly through the hologram’s arm.

The wailing cacophony of the sirens seemed to die back for just a moment as desperate hazel eyes met his. Even without words, he knew what Rimmer was trying to get him to do. 

“I don’t smeggin’ think so,” Lister snorted in defiant dismissal before glancing quickly around the corridor for a spark of inspiration.

Groaning dizzily, the last thing Rimmer remembered was a trio of Listers turning back to flash him a blurry, apologetic look. “Sorry, man,” they winced in harmony. “But I’m kinda out of options here.” 

Before he could attempt a reply, an airless gasp was wrenched from his throat as Lister’s hand thrust into his chest with a disconcerting, static _pulse_ before everything whited out into blissful nothingness.


	2. Part Two

The darkness felt infinite, swirling with the echoes of those wolverine leers that cackled down at him as he lay helpless. For a relentless stretch of time that refused to be defined, he was trapped in what was surely his worst nightmare. 

Eventually the laughter receded to the background hum of a familiar ship. Rimmer’s eyes fluttered open to the chirpy face that beamed down at him with a grin far too wide for those gerbil features.

“About time you woke up, Sleepin’ Beauty,” the blurry smirk teased.

Hazel eyes sank closed with a groan. Forget those Sydians. _This_ had to be his worst nightmare.

“You okay?”

Rimmer’s eyes remained steadfastly closed against the harsh glare of the ceiling lights. “Tickety-smegging-boo,” he growled.

Lister chuckled to himself. Sarcasm was always a good sign. “It was quite nice gettin’ to play the hero for a change, y’know!” he trilled happily. “I can see why you enjoyed it so much.”

Struggling upright to sit on the recliner, Rimmer kept his attention firmly fixed on his lap. “Mm,” he acknowledged, tight-lipped.

“Oh man, the way that Sydian went down after a swift kick to the nadgers!” Lister giggled, blissfully unaware that his enthusiasm was distinctly lacking in the man beside him. “The guy folded quicker than Kryten on laundry day!”

“Indeed,” Rimmer replied dully.

“Oh! And did y’see? I even managed to hack their security system!” Lister gushed, face beaming with pride. “I mean, I was a bit worried at first when I saw it was the old X1X software, but I just used the re-route approach like you showed me. Bish, bosh, done!”

Bouncing eagerly by the side of the recliner, Lister waited for a reaction from the man like a puppy desperate to be thrown a stick. However, nothing came. Indeed, for a man of many words, Rimmer was unusually quiet.

Lister shuffled awkwardly. Unlike sarcasm, silence was never a good sign. Eventually, he forced out a weak laugh to break it. “Well, y’could say somethin’,” he prompted.

Begrudging eyes eventually dragged themselves up to meet his. “What are you waiting for?” Rimmer sniped with a shrug. “A medal?”

Perhaps sarcasm wasn’t always a good sign after all.

For a moment Lister said nothing, merely staring back hard with his half-hearted smile still cemented in place. When he eventually spoke, his words were stiff and quiet. “You’re welcome.”

Rimmer huffed at the obvious dig. “What do you want me to say, hmm? By coming after me - _alone_ , I hasten to add - you took a stupid risk! You left yourself completely open to attack, capture or worse, and you expect me to pat you on the back?”

Despite the man’s typical string of criticisms, Lister nevertheless nodded his comprehension. “I know why you're bein’ like this and you can cut it out right now, y’hear me?”

Hazel eyes narrowed. “Like what, exactly?”

Brandishing his arms wide, Lister scoffed. “Like a self-centred prick for a start!”

An ugly scowl darkened Rimmer’s features. “Oh, indeed! How self-centred of me for wanting to keep you safe!” he snapped. “I really should complain less when you take pride in such idiotic risks!”

“That’s _not_ what’s makin’ you arsey and you know it!” Lister bit back. “You were taken hostage, yeah? It's a hostile universe. It happens.”

“How philosophical.”

“For smeg’s sake, it doesn’t make you weak!”

Rimmer’s jaw tightened. “What makes you ‘weak’ is being ill-prepared and foolhardy,” he ground out. “In fact, it has a rather nasty habit of making you dead, which you were incredibly fortunate to dodge!”

“Oh, for the love of - !” Lister dragged gloved hands down his face, biting back some choice words. “Will you STOP treatin' me like some smeggin’ kid who doesn't know what they're doin’!”

“Well, stop taking stupid risks like one, you reckless git!”

“I took them for YOU, y’stubborn, thankless arsehole!”

And just as quickly as their argument had escalated, it fell into a strained silence. Chest heaving, Lister held his ground as Rimmer glared back at him, nostrils flared. 

Eventually, the Scouser cocked his head. “We done now?”

“And another thing - !”

“ - oh great, there's more - ”

“ - the way you snatched at my lightbee like that was completely irresponsible. Your ham-fistedness risked damaging it beyond repair or - ” Rimmer fumbled inelegantly for another complaint. “ - invalidating the warranty.”

Lister regarded him from under the hood of a challenging eyebrow. “Warranty?” he echoed flatly. “Are you smeggin’ serious?”

“Fine, well how do you think I felt - ?!” Rimmer spluttered, fuming. “You picking me up like some bloody pebble you’d found!”

“GRATEFUL, I’d have thought!”

“It just goes to prove you didn’t have the first clue what you were doing,” Rimmer ploughed on regardless. He waggled an authoritative finger. “By some fluke, you managed to pull it off that time, but you can't rely on luck all the time, m’laddo.”

“I had a handle on it, okay?” Lister countered past a frown, arms folded. “I've fought off tougher dodgy dealers than that Sydian during me Aigburth Arms pool days.” 

It certainly hadn’t been the first time some low-life had attacked him from behind. Once, he’d even been pinned by the throat with a pool cue after he’d beaten Bare-Knuckle Bill at the pub tournament. Dave ‘Cinzano Bianco’ Lister had certainly gotten himself out of worse scrapes.

“And are you conveniently forgettin’ that I’ve also had me fair share of grief from deep space beasties for smeg knows how long?” he pressed. After all, hadn’t _he_ been the one who used to tackle the countless foes of the universe whilst the once-spineless smegger invented new and ingenious ways to disguise himself as inanimate objects? “I'm hardly a beginner, y’know.”

“You have no concept of danger, do you?” Rimmer snorted in dismissal. “You just throw yourself in with some amateurish moves and hope for the best.”

“I felt confident tacklin’ it ‘cos of the counter moves and hackin’ skills _you_ taught me,” Lister sulked. “I thought you'd be pleased.” He dropped any subtlety from his resulting eyeroll. “Silly me, eh?”

“I taught you so you'd know how to defend yourself when you were in trouble,” Rimmer replied stiffly.

“Ohhh right, when I'M in trouble,” Lister nodded, a humourless chuckle not far behind it. “So, what? It doesn't count when YOU’RE in trouble?!”

“I wasn’t in ‘trouble’,” Rimmer insisted through gritted teeth. “I had things under control, I could have handled it.”

“I getcha,” Lister agreed, sarcasm well and truly taking the helm. “Cos if I hadn’t have ‘interfered’ by scrapin’ your barely-conscious arse up from the floor, you’d have sprung right into action, yeah?” He shook his head wearily, tapping the screen beside him in reference. “Your energy levels were dangerously low, y’smegger. Whatever they were doin’ to you, they'd almost drained your battery pack doin’ it - ”

Rimmer’s feathers ruffled furiously at the man’s words. “Well, I’m fine now,” he cut in shortly, swinging his legs off the recliner. “I'm done here.”

“Don’t be like that,” Lister huffed, irritability prickling his tone. “The holo-projection unit says your power pack still needs - ”

“I said I’m FINE!” Rimmer snapped. Hopping off the recliner, he grimaced at the uncomfortable buzzing that niggled at his light bee when he tried to leave the recharge signal range. “Just - ” He wriggled surreptitiously back onto the recliner, “ - disconnect me from this smegging thing. I have better things to be getting on with then sitting here debating it with some foolhardy wannabe.”

A thundercloud darkened Lister’s usually-sunny features. “Y’know what?” he scowled, snatching up the remote before thumping it onto the recliner beside him. “ _You_ disconnect yourself. ‘Cos apparently, you can do everythin’ on your own, eh?”

Watching him storm out of the room, Rimmer’s defensive scowl sank back sadly, giving way to a long, relenting sigh.

 

Slamming the ‘door close’ button behind him, Lister let forth a long growl of frustration. He paced up and down the Sleeping Quarters for a moment, plucking out his cigarette packet unthinking. 

It wasn’t until he slid one out and held it to his lips that he caught himself, replacing the cigarette in the box with a muttered swear word. He’d been so good at cutting back (as the mother-hen-clucking mechanoid had encouraged him to do now that he was fifty) - he wasn’t about to ruin his good run after one stupid argument.

Instead he reached for the remote to switch on his games console before tossing it angrily onto the sofa. As ‘Battle Street XV’ began to load, he fetched himself a can of Leopard Lager from the fridge, cracked it open, and downed a third of it in one furious slug.

He’d genuinely thought that Rimmer would be _pleased_ at how he’d utilised the skills he’d been so keen to teach and refine over these last few weeks. A rookie mistake if ever there was one. That would be expecting graciousness and humility from a man who knew the meaning of neither.

Lister slumped into his usual spot on the sofa, sighing into the long-moulded cushions that cradled him in a welcome embrace. Taking another quick slurp from his can, he plucked up the controller, selected his usual go-to character (Ying Xi-Yu - he always loved playing the plucky underdog) and launched straight into battle.

His nose twitched every now and then as he pummelled out his frustrations into his simulated opponent. At least the A.I. didn’t seem to feel the need to criticise his ‘amateurish moves’. He’d invested many a late night in this game, perfecting Ying’s moves to a level of art-form. 

Not that Rimmer had ever been impressed by his achievements. Instead, he’d always made some snide comment that the character’s balance was all wrong for his style of high-kicks before grumbling that the flickering graphics made it impossible for him to sleep.

The door swished open, and Lister didn’t even need to look to see who it was. The footfall pattern was obvious enough. Instead, he kept his attention firmly focused on the screen. “If you've come to lecture me, you can forget about it,” he called out.

For a while, Rimmer offered no reply, leaving Lister to assume that he was giving him the silent treatment. But then the hologram muttered quietly: “A battery.”

Still concentrating on his game, Lister’s brow pinched in confusion. “Wha’?”

Rimmer tutted, as if loathed to elaborate. “They didn’t see me as a ‘hostage’,” he explained, voice clipped. Embarrassment pinched at the corners of his eyes as they examined his boots. “They only saw me as a battery. A handy device that they could - ” He frowned, swallowing hard. “ - drain and then toss away.” 

Lister paused the game, tapping an awkward thumb slowly against the controller. “Oh.”

A pained, awkward silence hung in the air between them. When you spent your days with someone bickering over bedcovers just as much as you bonked between them, it was funny how quickly you could forget that it was all with a computer-projected simulation.

There was a small clearing of the throat before Rimmer finally managed, “Do you know how insignificant that made me feel?”

Glancing round to face him, dark eyes blinked back sadly. Yes the guy was hurting, but dammit, so was he. “I think I’ve got some idea, yeah.”

Lister watched as the man squirmed but said nothing. At least he had the good grace to look guilty. In the quiet that followed, Rimmer approached the sofa, cautiously perching on the armrest but said nothing further.

Temper slowly diffusing, Lister held out an olive branch. “How you feelin’ now?” he asked gently. Rimmer wrinkled his nose but didn’t elaborate, leaving Lister to simply nod in reply. “Look, maybe you’ll feel better if you - ” At the hologram’s petulant glare, he frowned. “ - I was gonna say ‘sleep’, y’grumpy bugger!”

“Oh,” Rimmer mumbled, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hands. “Yes, I suppose so.”

Lister shot him a sympathetic look. “What’s eatin’ you, eh?”

“I shouldn't have let it happen,” Rimmer muttered angrily, hands thumping down into his lap. “I should have listened to my suspicions. I _knew_ they were up to something.”

“Come on, man, you weren't to know,” Lister soothed. “You can't blame yourself. It must have been over in thirty seconds, if that.”

“Oh, rub it in, why don't you.”

“You were there one minute and gone the next,” Lister quickly amended. “I didn't even see what had happened to you. I thought you'd gone ahead to another stall or lost your bearings or somethin’. But when I still couldn't find you when the market began packin’ up, I - ” he tailed off for a moment, that same knitted ball of dread seeming to sit heavy in his stomach all over again. “ - I knew somethin’ was up.” 

“I should have stuck to the main square when I clocked them,” Rimmer went on, as if he hadn’t heard a word of that the man had said. “I shouldn't have headed down the alley. I was cutting off my own escape route and making it far easier for them to narrow me down. I should have been faster when they grabbed me, I didn't counter quick enough - ”

“You are WAY overthinkin’ this, man.”

Rimmer rounded on him, eyes flashing. “Those smegging Sydians would have finished me off, Lister!” he snapped. “I'd made a career from single-handedly overthrowing dictatorships and defeating simulants, yet I was about to be wiped out by nothing more than common crooks.”

“But you had me to come save you! It's okay - ”

“Of course it’s not okay! I was Ace tossing Rimmer for eight smegging years, I shouldn't be needing help!”

“Hey, you were never infallible, even back then,” Lister reminded him sternly. “Besides, you're not him anymore. You're Arn again now - ”

“Exactly. A ‘pushover nobody’ it seems.”

“ - the smeghead I love and would do anythin’ for,” Lister pressed.

This seemed to finally snare the man’s attention. His cheeks flushed for a moment with something unsaid before the self-doubt quickly drained it.

“All that smegging work and they didn't even recognise me,” Rimmer groused. “Hadn't even _heard_ of - ” He tilted his head in self-conscious indication, which Lister acknowledged with an awkward shrug. “Just saw me as some cheap opportunity. No more than a disposable piece of electronic equipment.”

Reaching out for the man’s hand, Lister traced thoughtful fingers across the bumps of Rimmer’s knuckles; the skin cradled in his so warm and life-like. Eventually, he simply nodded. “Well, I guess a dose of humility every now and then is good for the soul, eh?” he mused.

Glancing sideways, Lister watched the hologram’s face light with warmth and gratitude at such a human reassurance. The Scouser smiled at him affectionately, brow then pinching in concern as remorse sombred the man’s features.

“I'm sorry,” Rimmer mumbled.

A soothing thumb rubbed at the hologram’s hand. “I know.”

Rimmer shook his head, attention elsewhere. “I should have said right from the start - ” He tailed off, embarrassed. After a moment, he seemed to come back to himself, glancing back down at him with concern. “Cos I am, you know. Grateful, that is.”

A tired smile graced Lister’s features. “C’mere, you.” Latching onto Rimmer’s sleeve, he found no resistance as he slowly tugged the man down from his perch and into a relieved embrace. “I was really worried about you, y’smegger.”

“Huh,” Rimmer mumbled into the soothing earthy leather of Lister’s jacket. “Now you know how I feel.”

Pulling back to face him, Lister treated that long sharp nose to a peck. “Drink?”

Rimmer nodded gratefully. “Make it a large one,” he sighed.

“I think you need it today,” Lister chuckled, patting his chest.

Leaning his elbow over the back of the sofa as the man tracked back to the kitchenette, Rimmer watched fondly whilst he poured out a generous glass of wine. “You'd make a bloody good Ace, you know,” he announced. 

Lister stopped, mid-pour, to shoot him a look of dubious shock. “Was that a _compliment_ I just heard come out of your mouth?”

“It’s true,” Rimmer shrugged. “You would.”

There was a blink of surprise before Lister resumed pouring. Those Sydians must have seriously scrambled his circuits...

Rimmer’s lip curled as he considered this more fully. “Maybe if your counter-attacks were a little less sloppy and you showered more often.”

… _aaaand_ the balance of the universe was right once again.

Glancing over his shoulder, Lister flashed him a look of feigned affront. “What’s showerin’ got to do with it, y’cheeky git?”

Chuckling, Rimmer leapt up from the sofa to hover teasingly behind him. “No damsel in distress is going to want to shag you if you swan around smelling like an Indian takeaway.”

Lister snorted as he turned back to his task. “Apart from you, you mean.”

“Touché.”

“Besides,” Lister mused as he replaced the bottle on the countertop, wondering why the man had relented so easily. “There’s nothin’ wrong with my counter-atta— ”

The moment he felt that strong hand grab his arm, Lister windmilled it free whilst simultaneously grabbing the attacking hand to twist it back awkwardly into a wrist-lock.

“Bloody, buggering - !” Rimmer gasped in surprise. “Okay, yes, point taken - !”

“See?” Lister smarmed proudly, continuing to hold the hologram tightly at his mercy. “I do pay attention to you sometimes.” 

Squirming his hand subtly to test the strength of the restraint, Rimmer heaved an irritable sigh that was nonetheless undeniably heated. Yes, he could think of at least six different moves to free himself from the hold, but none of them were particularly conducive to where he was hoping this would end up next. 

Instead, he settled for: “Oh shut up and kiss me, you arrogant sod.” 

Grinning widely at his captive, the Scouser cocked his head. “I learnt from the best, eh?”

“What, the arrogance or the kissing?”

Lister sniggered, lips humming happily as he pressed them into a kiss. Rimmer’s eyes sank closed as the man deepened it with irresistible passion, allowing his mouth to be teased wider. It wasn’t long until the hologram found himself moaning his delight as an agile tongue slicked over his before melting into Lister’s embrace when he finally released him.

Well. It definitely wasn’t the kissing.


End file.
